


Happily In Betweens

by VickyVicarious



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Once Upon a Time in Wonderland (TV)
Genre: Angst, Charming Family Feels, F/M, Family, Ficlet Collection, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Other, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 13,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VickyVicarious/pseuds/VickyVicarious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short gen or non-CS focused ficlets written for Tumblr prompts. 1,500 words or less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> Like the summary says, this is a collection of non-CS focused fics (under 1,500 words). I feel it's important to note here that Captain Swan will still appear, so if you aren't a fan of them please be aware of that. This collection will contain all my short fics that are primarily gen, a non-CS pairing, or fics where CS and another pairing are equally featured.
> 
> Don't worry, I'll list whatever pairings/characters are in each ficlet at the head of each chapter so you can avoid whatever you dislike.

To start, I have an extremely goofy crack!pairing drabble! (No, not everything will be this ridiculous, I swear.)

**Pairing:** Captain Floor

**Prompt:** Rosenlight on Tumblr sent me an ask with the first four sentences (bold). I continued from there.

* * *

**There he was again. The floor hugged him tightly in its muddy embrace, whispered with the cracking of leaves that he'll be okay. Hook closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, trying to resist its charm, but he was too weak. He sighed, resting at last.**

If there was one thing Hook had always been able to count on throughout his long life, it was Floor. Always there for him, silently supporting him, firm beneath his feet. Sometimes, he'd just - lay down, just close his eyes and savor the constant love, the strength, the belief that although he would always stand up, so too would he lay down again. Floor was patient, it would always wait for him, would always welcome him.

Even in the midst of a fight, if he were knocked down the pain was soothed by an edge of familiarity, of trust and momentary relief. It didn't matter whether it was the crackling leaves of the Enchanted Forest, the muddy sod of Neverland, the wood of his own ship, rocks, or even tiles - no matter what realm he traveled to, no matter what battle he fought, Hook could always recognize his Floor. He sought its solace for as long as he dared, silently promising to return - and could feel its belief in him, that same solid surety, the trust that he would survive, and they would be reunited once more. Floor was patient, constant… just these swift, stolen moments in the midst of battle were still enough to bring Hook a level of peace, confidence, and renewed energy as he stood up yet again.

_Don't worry_ , Floor seemed to whisper, _gravity will bring us together again. True Love always finds a way._


	2. Bounty

**Relationships:** Captain Hood (friendship), Outlaw Queen hints, minor Snowing.

**Prompt:** Robin Hook Snow Thief Contest

* * *

“All I’m saying, mate, is that my name is still widely known and feared three _hundred_ years later.”

“The name born of your failure,” Robin scoffed, though the twinkle in his eyes belied any venom the words might hold. “I’ve never been jailed, you know.”

“What, the Nottingham _Sheriff_ never caught you? Ah, truly a master thief, then.” Hook arched a challenging brow, grinning viciously as he tore a bite free of the hunk of bread speared on his hook. “Did I mention when I climbed the beanstalk and stole from a giant? Stole the giant too, ‘s a matter of fact.”

Robin sat up slowly, smirking. “With the help of an evil witch, yes, I’ve heard. I don’t suppose _you’ve_ heard the price on my head?”

Hook leaned forward as well, eyes narrowing. “I’d wager tonight’s watch mine’s double.”

“I accept!” Robin laughed, holding out his hand. Hook reached forward to shake it–

“I’ll bet mine’s _triple_.”

Both men blinked, and looked up. Queen Snow stood with her hands on her hips, grinning softly. When the men stared at her in clear confusion, she snickered. “What, you’ve never heard about when I was a bandit? Traveling the land, stealing from the Evil Queen…”

“It’s how we met,” David added fondly, wandering by with an armload of firewood. “She robbed my carriage, stole my horse, and knocked me out with a rock.”

There was a stunned pause. David continued on his way. Snow’s smile grew a little smug.

“Even so,” Hook said, “three hundred years of piracy –”

“The Merry Men and I have robbed _a lot_ of rich to give to the poor –”

“Trust me,” Regina cut in, her familiar sardonic tone edged with unexpected lightness; Robin snapped to attention. She exchanged an amused glance with Snow. “Her bounty was higher than both of yours together. I set it myself, I’d know.”

“Since I won the wager,” Snow said sweetly, “I think it’s only fair that you _both_ take tonight’s watch.”

Hook scowled. “Wait a tick –”

“If we must,” Robin said absently, before jumping to his feet and following closely after the once-Evil Queen as she exited the clearing. “Out of curiosity, madam, exactly what price _did_ you set?”

“Oi, I didn’t agree to – Hood!” Hook snapped after him, but the thief was long gone. Hook slumped on his log, grumpily taking another bite of his bread.

Snow patted him on the shoulder consolingly, grinning all the while.


	3. True Love's Kiss

**Relationships:** Captain Floor (OTP foreverrr hahaha), Captain Swan

**Prompt:** Omg please wrrite a captain floor fic of how when Emma kicked Hook at the end of 3.11 and he hit the floor face down and the curse on Emma was broken.

* * *

"Look, I know you can't remember me but," he took a deep breath, shuffling forward a little, "I can make you."

And then he was _kissing her_ , and for a moment she was kissing back, couldn't help but kiss back, something about him just felt so - so - fucking _insane_ what the hell was he thinking (what was _she_ thinking) and Emma kneed him hard, shoving him back into the hallway.

He stumbled back, clutching himself, and tried to lean against the opposite wall. But Emma hit _hard_ , and he rebounded forward, attempting to catch his balance but ultimately failing. He landed flat on his face.

She was already yelling when it happened: "What the hell was th-"

The air… _rippled_.

Something pulsed outwards, a ring of near-invisible light expanding rapidly from the place where the crazy man's mouth was smushed against the carpet. Lights flickered as it passed; behind Emma the radio jolted on again, loud static filling the air. But the biggest effect was on Emma herself: she could _feel_ the light passing through her; it was impossibly warm and soft and _right_ somehow, it knocked her breath away, woke something deep inside of her, she could feel her skin tingling, blood fizzing in her veins as sudden energy rushed through her. No - not just energy. _Magic_. Emma's magic was awake again and _so was she_ , she remembered suddenly, everything slotting into place, everything -

" _Hook?_ " she gasped.

He jerked his head up, staring at her. "Emma," he breathed joyfully. "It worked."

Still blinking in shock (what the hell was he doing here? oh god, her entire life with Henry was a lie, wait, _shit_ , he'd said her family was in trouble, what the hell was going on, how had he - _had he tried_ -) Emma slowly crouched to meet Hook's eyes.

"You… you tried True Love's kiss," she said numbly.

"It _worked_ ," he whispered again, a huge grin overtaking his face. Emma shivered, terrified at the mere thought, but - but an answering smile was growing on her own lips, she couldn't help it. She couldn't believe he'd done it, she wanted to hug him, to cling to him and sob, thank him forever for _finding her_ , god, it'd been a year. Coming back here was supposed to be impossible, she didn't have a clue how he'd managed it, but he'd done it somehow, he'd _come back_ for her, brought _her_ back; everything felt _real_ in a way that it hadn't been for the past year, everything was crystal-clear suddenly and she wanted to kiss him again, kiss him forever, True Love's kiss, he loved her and _she loved him_ , there was no hiding anymore, this was True -

Wait a minute.

"No," Emma muttered, hand coming up to press against her lips. She stared at Hook, laid out flat on the floor before her. "No, it didn't. It didn't work."

He shoved himself up a little further, with a sharp gasp. "You don't -"

"No, I remember," Emma said instantly, and Hook relaxed back onto the floor in relief. "I… remember everything, but. I didn't remember right _away_. That's not how True Love's kiss works, it happens while you're still kissing, not - I mean," she scoffed a little, "the light burst out when you kissed _the floor_ , not me, so I don't know what that was, but it couldn't have been…"

Emma trailed off, staring. Hook's eyes had gone wide, and his head slowly angled to stare straight down at the brown carpet beneath him. His mouth dropped open a little, Emma heard him take a short, sharp breath, and - his fingers _stroked_ across the carpet, almost… _lovingly_ …

"True Love's… kiss," Emma finished slowly, blinking repeatedly and licking her lips as she tried to think of what to… he was still _gazing_ at the ground, a small amazed smile on his lips now and - she'd seen that smile before. Mere minutes ago, in fact, that was how he'd looked at _her_ when Emma had opened the door and he'd seen her for the first time in a year and he'd said her name with so much awe -

" _Floor_ ," Hook breathed, so quietly she almost didn't hear it, and it was the _exact same tone_. A sharp spike of jealousy had Emma clearing her throat loudly - his head snapped up instantly, and she wanted to laugh a second later, because this was ridiculous, was she really jealous over the _floor?_ What was she thinking, was the ugly brown _carpet_ Hook's True Love? Yeah, because _that_ made so much more sense than the real world interfering with the magic somehow, delaying it a few seconds.

Except - except - Hook was _blushing_ , red slowly rising up his cheeks as he swallowed hard, eyes flickering between Emma's face and the floor he was still just _lying_ on, and his fingers were still doing that soft little petting thing, like he wasn't even thinking of it, like he couldn't even help it, like -

Keeping a foot stretched back to hold the door open behind her, Emma scrambled forward, grabbing Hook's hand and opposite wrist and _yanking_ him up off the ground. He came, but slowly, as if he was dazed or even _reluctant_ , and Emma positively _snarled_ , pulling harder: "Stand UP."

Once he was on his feet she hugged him tightly; felt his arms come around her too after a moment, tight and loving and she wanted to just close her eyes and sink into him, breathe him in and never let go because he was _here_ , he was _hers_ , he'd come for her and saved her, brought her memories back with -

She glared at the floor, and invited Hook inside to sit on the couch while he explained what the hell was going on. She didn't care if he put his feet on the coffee-table, by the way, she mentioned casually, and stomped a little harder than necessary as she led the way inside.


	4. Toaster

**Relationships:** Captain Hood, Captain Swan, Outlaw Queen

**Prompt:** I combined two prompts for this. The first was _"It's a bagel"_ , and the second was: _Regina and Emma watch as Hook and Robin get introduced to technology._

* * *

“And this contraption _here_ is called a toaster,” Hook said knowledgeably, flourishing his hook at the appliance. Emma smirked at the healthy distance he was sure to maintain between his steel hook and the machine; one near-electrocution had been enough to instill a definite wariness. “You use it on bread.”

Robin squinted at it skeptically. “How does it work?”

Hook opened his mouth, paused, and then said, “ _Electricity_ ,” with such supreme conviction you’d think he invented the concept (no matter that he _still_ seemed half-convinced it was just another word for magic in this land). He then proceeded to open the breadbox and begin demonstrating how one went about operating a toaster, all the while keeping his left arm a good distance away.

Regina wandered into the kitchen several minutes later, by which time Robin had grown quite fond of the toaster. He greeted her by enthusiastically offering to toast her a rounded bread if she was hungry.

“Actually, it’s a bagel,” the queen corrected, but despite the caustic edge to it, her voice was fond, and she accepted the offer. Emma shoved out a second chair with her foot, and after a moment Regina sank into it, still watching the men.

“What’s this?” she asked with quiet amusement, as Hook supervised Robin’s careful fiddling with the blackness setting knob.

“Hook is teaching Robin about technology,” Emma smirked, as both men leaned their heads to the side in unison so they could watch the coils on the inside of the toaster heating up, Robin humming interestedly. “Stick around, next up’s the microwave.”


	5. Expert Advice

**Relationships:** Emma+Aurora, Philora, Captain Swan

 **Prompt:** I would love a drabble with Aurora asking Emma for sexual advice for her and Philip and being like 'i know you and hook are probably a good ask for this' and emma being like 'WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DON'T DO HOOK' and then telling her.

* * *

"I mean," the princess said, blushing violently, "it’s not like I don’t know _anything_ , I mean we do have a child together, I know what I’m doing in - in the bedchambers.”

"Right," Emma agreed awkwardly, trying not to think of any lame jokes about Sleeping Beauty knowing her way around bedchambers. "Of course you do."

”It’s just - and it’s not that I don’t love him, I _do_ , I just. I think I’ve been wanting…” Aurora blushed harder, lowering her voice furtively, “more.”

"Okay," Emma shrugged. When Aurora had pulled her into the gardens for a ‘private conversation’ earlier, she had not been expecting this. "Um. What kind of more?"

"I don’t know!" the princess hissed. "I thought _you’d_ know, I mean you and Hook obviously get up to - to - I don’t know, all sorts of things!”

Emma blinked, not sure if she should be offended. “What do you mean, obviousl - wait, did you say me and _HOOK?_ ”

Aurora raised her eyebrows, as if to say ‘your point being?’

"I’m not - seriously, Hook?" Emma said, gaping. "What the hell - why would you even _think_ that?”

Aurora just looked at her.

"I’m not having _kinky sex_ with _Hook!_ " she snapped back, perhaps a little too loudly. Instantly, she lowered her voice, glancing furtively around before leaning forward to whisper insistently, "I’m _not!_ ”

The princess actually _tutted_. “Fine, Emma,” she sighed, in the tone of one who believes none of it. “But… please, I don’t know who else to talk to about this. _Please_.”

Emma groaned, dropping her face into her hands. She had never ever wanted to be in the position of giving a Disney princess sex tips. Never.

"…Fine," she said, finally, trying not to notice the way Aurora perked up immediately. "I guess a good place to start would be light bondage…"

\------

"…and I mean, _I’ve_ got to make allowances for the whole ‘only one hand’ thing so handcuffs aren’t necessarily the best choice, in fact maybe scarves are better anyway, they’re softer - but you won’t have to do anything complicated, and trust me seeing but being unable to touch is gonna drive him _mad_ ,” Emma finished with an encouraging smile, several minutes later. Okay, so being Aurora’s sex guru hadn’t been so bad, at least not so far. She’d listened attentively, and though her blush had Emma fearing for the blood vessels in her cheeks at times, the princess had seemed nervously excited about Emma’s various suggestions for ways to spice up her nights with Philip.

In fact, she was currently sporting a somewhat wicked smirk. Huh, she must like the idea of scarves even more than blindfolds (her other favorite suggestion).

"What?" Emma asked, after several moments passed with the princess just grinning at her.

"Nothing," Aurora giggled, biting her lips. "Thank you. I think we’ll manage all right. Since Philip has both hands."

"I - um. What?" Emma asked, eyes going wide and blush beginning to warm her cheeks - but Aurora was already standing up and darting around the hedge.

"I’ll tell you how it goes," she laughed lightly, and was gone before Emma could protest that that _really_ wasn’t necessary, or explain that the whole ‘one hand thing’ was just a slip of the tongue, it wasn’t like she and Hook were _actually_ having kinky sex, okay, it was all just a misunder-

"I hope you weren’t intending to give them _our_ handcuffs,” a familiar voice purred from behind her, and Emma jumped and spun around to see Hook stepping out from behind another hedge with a huge smirk. “You know I’m rather fond of them.”

Emma groaned, dropping her face into her hands. “How much did you hear?”

Warm arms wrapped around her waist, and Hook rubbed his stubble teasingly against her neck (he _knew_ she liked that, just as much as he _knew_ she hated the marks it left. the asshole) as he pressed small kisses to her skin.

"Apparently we’ve been getting up to _all sorts_ of things,” he whispered huskily into her ear. “Have you taught the innocent princess about sex in public yet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JUST SO YOU KNOW: Philip does approve of both bondage and blindfolding. Aurora reports this back to Emma who continues to be her reluctant tutor in the world of kink. Eventually she ends up suggesting Aurora try a threesome, just a suggestion, but Aurora REALLY LIKES the idea. As does Philip. As does Mulan. And though it was maybe meant as a once-off, the Warrior Royals threesome rapidly becomes a permanent arrangement. (Meanwhile Hook and Mulan are bros, and Emma and Aurora eventually end up becoming really good friends with Emma confiding in Aurora too.)


	6. Aplomb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Davey Jones, lots of mention of Captain Swan. Based partially on spoiler photos, so fair warning
> 
> Written for a vocabulary prompt.

**aplomb:** _noun  
     _ -self-confidence or assurance, especially when in a demanding situation.

.

"Hook," David said, and to his credit, his voice was truly sympathetic, without a trace of pity. “I understand that you want to get Emma back, believe me I do, but - she’s _happy_ now. Finally. We can’t take that away from her.”

Hook scoffed, finished loosely rolling up a blanket, and tossed it up onto the back of his horse, just behind the saddle. Holding it in place with his left arm, he quickly began to knot it down, speaking over his shoulder as he did so: “You can tell Neal that all you like, mate - but you don’t really believe it yourself, do you?”

David looked taken aback briefly at the mention of Neal - apparently unaware that Hook had already witnessed that more successful version of this conversation - but rallied quickly. When Hook turned to retrieve the last few foodstuffs he’d set aside on a nearby rock, the Prince stood firmly in his way, arms crossed.

"She _is_ happy,” he insisted. “She has Henry, she has the life she’s always _wanted_ , Hook -“

"Always wanted - she _didn’t_ want it,” Hook burst out, fist clenching at his side. Behind him, the horse shifted, stepping forward to get at some  fresher grass, and he breathed out slowly for several seconds before continuing. “She didn’t want to leave, and whatever she might think while she’s under a bloody _curse_ , Swan would want to remember. She’d want to be _here_ , with - her family.”

His voice went hoarse on the last word, and he turned away sharply, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck.

David watched him for a long moment. The valley was quiet, the dwarves’ conversation from a little ways off the only sound penetrating the morning mist. Slowly, Hook’s shoulders relaxed, and he turned back to resume packing, as if the interlude had never happened.

Once again, Prince Charming was blocking his way.

"Look, even if she… We’re in the _Enchanted Forest_. Regina can’t cast the curse again, and there aren’t any magic beans left - no,” he stepped forcefully in front of Hook as the pirate attempted to skirt around him, and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to listen. “There’s _no way_ back to her.”

Hook wrenched himself free, a sneer curling his lip. “And what do you want me to do, _mate?_ " he asked sarcastically. "Find a crew and plunder all the merchant vessels that no longer exist? Stay here in the service of your _charming_ little kingdom, whiling out the rest of my days as a bloody blacksmith?” He shook his head, the anger dropping off his face, to be replaced by a deep, aching melancholy.

"The Crocodile is dead," he said. "Even if I still wanted it, I could no longer pursue my revenge. The only other - I have _nothing else left_ , and I refuse to - you won’t convince me to waste the rest of my life on _giving up_.”

Forgoing the remaining supplies entirely, he turned and mounted his steed. Settling into the saddle and taking up the reins, he paused and glanced down in surprise - David stood just behind his knee, settling several parcels of food down into the saddlebag. Once finished - the load was meager, but that was only to be expected, as there were hardly any supplies to begin with when all the farms had been abandoned for nearly twenty-nine years - the prince stepped back, towards the horse’s head.

He hesitated. Then, “where will you go?”

Hook shrugged. “Wherever I must.”

"That’s not good enough!" Hook jumped slightly at the sharp crack of David’s voice, and Snow looked up from where she was occupied at the pavilion on the other side of the field. She stood, and began to approach them swiftly.

"This isn’t some lighthearted trip, mate," David snarled, lowering his voice as he grabbed at the bridle to hold the horse still. "If I let you go - if I’m supposed to let you try to find my daughter… You need to have a _plan_.”

Unexpectedly, Hook grinned. Leaning forward against his horse’s neck, he said, “I’ll check the beanstalk first. Make certain there is no final bean. If that fails, I have other options.”

When David made as if to object, Hook actually laughed. It wasn’t exactly an amused sound, but it was neither anywhere near as bitter as it could have been, more - grimly determined.

"I survived hundreds of years beyond my time, traveled three realms, and managed to find a way to kill the Dark One himself - for all that it didn’t last -when I hunted my revenge. My current purpose has me _much_ more motivated.” Still grinning wide, almost baring his teeth, Hook shook his head. “I _will_ find her.”

Slowly, David’s hand dropped off the bridle. He stepped back shortly, just as his wife arrived, asking what was going on. It only took a moment for her to put two and two together and start telling Hook to get down off the horse, he was needed here and -

"It’s all right, Snow," David murmured, and reached out to take her hand.  He didn’t look away from the pirate’s face as he spoke, and there was something oddly like _trust_ in his eyes. “He’s going to find Emma, and bring her home.”

Hook nodded gravely at the prince.

"Always," he promised, flicking the reins to begin his journey. 


	7. Potential

**Relationships:** Snow White+Regina, Outlaw Queen

 **Prompt:** Snow's POV about OQ.

* * *

 

His attention was on Regina immediately from the moment he’d rescued them, and hadn’t wavered at all in the face of Regina’s caustic attitude. He’d only looked away when Snow clasped his offered (to Regina, and _rejected_ by Regina) hand. Even throughout the rest of their conversation, though he spoke to Snow his eyes kept darting back to the Queen.

And now Regina is staring back over her shoulder at him.

"So what do you think of our new _friend_?” she asks (and a small part of Snow that she’s never quite managed to squash cheers to find Regina asking her opinion, engaging her in conversation. She’s always known there was still good in her, hidden deep down). “Can we trust him? He is a thief.”

Staring off into the distance, Snow thinks about Regina’s concerns… and has to fight the smile that rises to her lips as she realizes what this is. What this could become.

"Think of it from his perspective," she says, remembering again how he’d hardly looked away, how he’d continued to glance back at Regina throughout the process of his company joining the group, the interest in his eyes. "How do you think he looks at you?"

She’s trying not to smirk, but she gets the feeling she isn’t succeeding very well. It doesn’t matter much - Regina’s been very deliberately staring straight ahead ever since she stopped looking back at Robin.

"Point taken," the Queen mutters, and Snow can’t help a small chuckle.

She just doesn’t get it.

"He’s kinda cute, huh?" Snow prompts, finally letting her smile bloom open on her face and turning to look at her companion.

Regina meets her gaze for a moment, clearly startled, and then makes a face as she glances away. “He smells like forest,” she says dismissively - and then starts to walk faster, pulling ahead of Snow and effectively ending the conversation.

Snow watches her go with a grin. Yes, there’s definitely something there. Robin hasn’t made advances of any kind, but he’s already been showing a clear interest in learning about Regina, and now she’s doing the same. _Smells of forest_ \- what kind of comeback is that, when all it proves is that Regina has been paying close enough attention to notice such an unusual detail?

This is a good thing. Snow has heard many tales of Robin Hood, has even spoken to people whom he’s helped, and all sources agree - he is a kind, brave, good man. His thievery is only ever for a good cause, and he takes care of his Merry Men like a family. Their short acquaintance has only further proven his kindness - assisting the former Storybrooke citizens so kindly, without hesitation or request for reward. He is certainly a man they can trust.

Most importantly, however, Regina is _curious_ about him. Her questions about Robin Hood are the first interest Regina has truly shown in any topic besides losing Henry since they’ve arrived back. Snow knows just how desperate and lost Regina must feel - she’s been there before. She’s still there, even now, but she _has_ to remember the positives, on Emma’s happiness in her new life. She has to focus on the present, she can’t lose hope - and she refuses to let Regina lose hope, either. It hurts, horribly, it will always hurt, but they have to _live_. They have to find something to live for, here in this land, _someone_ to live for, someone to love.

Snow has Charming, but Regina has no one. _Had_ no one - now, Robin Hood is watching her, and she’s asking questions about him, and Snow hopes that maybe, just maybe, Regina could have found her someone to live for.

It’s not love, not yet. But there’s potential there. This could become something beautiful - and in the meantime it at least provides Regina an anchor to what _must_ be their life now. Even for that reason alone, Snow will offer all the support she can.

In front of her, the Queen glances back over her shoulder again. Snow turns to follow her gaze and spots Robin, walking with Neal and Belle but staring thoughtfully forward, past all the rest of the group to the woman in black walking far out in front.

Snow smiles wide, and hopes for the best.


	8. Intriguing

**Relationship:** Outlaw Queen

**Prompt:** Robin and/or Regina's POV during the sneak peek scene for 3.15. As you may guess this fic contains **spoilers** for Sunday.

* * *

"So," he asked, sighing as Regina set the bottle down on the table, "none of these contain magical properties?"

If there was one situation Robin Hood had never expected to find himself, it would be this one: rifling through the kitchen of a witch’s farmhouse with the Evil Queen, searching for hidden magic.

Then again, life had been quite unpredictable for a while now - ever since this woman had cast her Dark Curse. Spending twenty-eight years frozen in place, only to discover upon regaining movement that most of the realms’ inhabitants had vanished and the land had been overrun with ogres was bad enough. At least he’d met Mulan during the curse, a most worthy addition to the Merry Men; though she either hadn’t come across with the second curse, or she’d ended up in some other part of this strange realm - he knew that she could take care of herself, but still hoped she’d ended up somewhere safe. Waking up one morning to find oneself in this odd land run on ‘technology’ instead of magic, wearing unusual clothing and with no memory of the past year, that was bad enough.

When Little John was turned into a _flying monkey_ , Robin had decided to simply let go of all doubt or skepticism in favor of getting his friend back. And if that required working with the Evil Queen, so be it.

It was turning out quite differently than he’d expected.

"Well, a good witch covers her tracks," Regina mused, brushing past Robin to examine the cabinet behind him. "But a better one," she smirked slightly, and he turned to sit against the table, watching her continue to examine the shelf’s contents: "can uncover them. We’ll find her, just be patient."

"You know, I’ve heard many stories about the _great and terrible_ Evil Queen,” Robin said, dropping his gaze thoughtfully before glancing back up. She remained bent over in front of him, peering through the bottles… His eyes lingered. “But from this angle, the ‘evil’ moniker seems somewhat of an overstatement.”

She paused, and he waited for a response, but none came. With no indication his words were unwelcome, Robin took a breath and continued: “Bold and audacious, perhaps, but, uh,” he stood up, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and watched her closely. “Not evil.”

When she turned to face him he couldn’t help but smile.

"The name served me well," Regina admitted with a nod, and her voice took on a slightly rough, intimate tone as she added, "Fear is… quite an effective tool."

Yes indeed, but that wasn’t all. Robin had seen her with her son before they left on this little adventure, and her heartbreak at the cursed boy’s casual farewell was quite obvious to his eyes. He suspected that there had been quite a change of attitude when Henry entered her life.

Smirking slightly, Robin advanced slowly towards her. Regina blinked, and stared slightly as he leaned past her, but didn’t move. The air felt charged, their bodies almost touching.

Robin grabbed a bottle at random from the shelf, and leaned back - not far. “What about this?” he asked, lifting the bottle up slightly but still not even glancing at it. “Is this magical?”

Regina’s eyes were dark, even in the dim lighting of the room, and her gaze lingered on him for a moment before she glanced down and took hold of the bottle - not pulling it from his hand, simply holding on. He could feel the warmth of her fingers. She seemed a little flustered.

"Not exactly. But it is a liquid that can conjure courage," Robin watched her face as she spoke, the slight smirk that curved her lips as she regained her composure, the challenging arch to her eyebrows. That raspy quality was back in her voice: "give strength, or even act as a love potion of sorts."

He raised his eyebrows high, nodding for her to go on - though the list was already sounding quite familiar.

Regina burst out laughing - short, but bright, and captivating.

"It’s called whiskey," she said, glancing down at the bottle they were both still holding. "And no, it’s not magical. Especially not the next day."

“ _Oh_ ,” Robin breathed, and didn’t bother to contain his own smile as he swiftly reached past her to snatch a pair of cups from the cabinet. He shrugged, tilting his head invitingly at her.

"You want to have drink. Now," she said, but she was smiling.

"Well," Robin shrugged, and turned to begin filling the glasses. He pulled his sleeves up out of the way as he began to poured a share in each glass. "Over the last few days we’ve survived a curse, woken up in an entirely new realm, and forgotten a year of our lives! I’d say we’ve earned it. Wouldn’t you?"

He kept his voice deliberately light, setting the bottle down and picking up a glass in each hand before turning round to face her once more. Though he may joke about it, the truth was that now was probably one of the _worst_ times for sharing a drink - exactly because all of this was going on.

He ought to remain focused, and Regina… she made it difficult to do that. Robin felt quite drawn to her - and it wasn’t all due to physical attraction, though that was an undoubtedly strong feeling. He’d meant what he said only minutes ago: she was a powerful woman, quite impressive indeed.

In fact, he thought, as he smiled and held out a glass of whiskey to the Evil Queen who had ravaged his entire homeland with her curse nearly twenty-nine years ago - in fact, despite all the other odd goings on, Robin was finding _this woman_ to be perhaps the most intriguing of all.

She returned the smile warmly, before glancing down to take the cup - and freezing, her grin fading as she stared down at his hand in apparent shock. Robin blinked at her, then at his arm. Seeing nothing amiss, he looked up again, but she suddenly avoided meeting his eyes.

He frowned, unable to discern the reason for her sudden withdrawal. And… far more curious about it than he really ought to be.

_Definitely_ the most intriguing.


	9. Laundry Day

**Relationship:** Captain Cobra (very mild background Captain Swan and Outlaw Queen)

**Prompt:** Killian does laundry as Henry watches in total amusement.

* * *

It was Henry's idea to invite Killian to live with him and his mom. Actually, it was more than his idea, he kind of went ahead and extended the invitation without ever consulting Emma, who started kind of stuttering awkwardly, and Killian got all oddly bashful about it, and Henry bribed him by mentioning that it was just off the water because his mom loved living by the ocean, and it was all really amusing until they started giving each other _looks_ , at which point he wisely removed himself from the situation before he ended up traumatized or something by the sight of them making out.

(…again.)

(…for the third time in two days.)

(Yeah, he was happy for his mom and all, but c'mon, there are _limits_.)

Anyway, the whole thing worked out pretty well, in Henry's opinion. Sure, it's only been a week or two, but Killian now that he has his memories back and knows he's also Captain Hook is actually just as cool as before. Probably more so. He's got all these cool tricks with knots and cards and dice and he's promised to teach Henry how to sail and he's actually a pretty decent cook, and it all works out really nicely. Henry spends half his time in his old room at his other mom's house with _her_ boyfriend and his son, and tries to pretend that he is not at all aware that Killian and Emma are pretty much having sex all the time he's gone.

He hasn't walked in on them yet, so he figures that's the best he can ask for, and just never brings it up. It's worked out pretty well so far.

That is, until the afternoon he comes home from school to the sight of a naked pirate ass bent over the coffee table.

"Oh god!" Henry yells, and throws his hands up in front of his face. "Seriously? It's the middle of the day!"

"Ah… lad, I, er, wasn't expecting you back yet," Killian says after a moment. He sounds a bit embarrassed, but not nearly as much as he _should_ , and his voice is all unhurried, and Henry hasn't heard a peep out of his mom which is definitely not like her if he'd actually caught her in the act, and - "But a man's got to do his laundry sometime, aye?"

\- and what now.

"Laundry," Henry repeats flatly, hands still firmly over his eyes.

"Yes, laundry," Killian kind of huffs, with this indignant edge to his voice like he thinks _Henry's_ being ridiculous. Which is too laughable to even start with, so he bites his tongue and squints his eyes open cautiously.

He was not mistaken about the naked pirate ass bent over the coffee table.

On second glance, however, there is a pair of black pants laid out over the table itself, and Killian is simply kneeling on the floor pantsless (he doesn't wear underwear; Henry never needed to know that) to better facilitate him wiping down the pants with a soapy cloth.

"You're doing laundry," Henry repeats, staring blankly.

" _Yes_ ," Killian hisses, and dips his rag in a bowl of water and soap before starting another long smooth stripe down the leg of the pants. He has two more towels set up, one in a bowl with plain water, and one simply folded on the table.

"You know, we have these things called, uh, washing machines -" Henry starts, tentatively easing around his mom's half-naked boyfriend to sit on the couch. From this vantage point, he has a better view of the top of the coffee table, and all naked parts are hidden.

"Swan has already informed me of your washing machines," Killian dismisses without looking up. He's delicately running the soapy cloth over the crotch of his pants and Henry should probably be feeling scandalized still but it's fading away now into a kind of disbelieving hilarity. "They're quite marvelous, but still, they have a few limitations."

Henry watches as Killian sets the soapy cloth back into its bowl and picks up the wet cloth. He gives it a squeeze and sets to wiping again.

"Limitations like what?"

"They don't wash leather," Killian admits with a shrug and a quick glance up. He gestures down at the coffee table, raising his eyebrows. "Hence, doing my laundry."

"Huh," Henry says. "I never really thought about that. And those are your only pants… that must suck."

Killian shrugs again, and reaches up to scratch at his head. He leaves a trail of soap bubbles in his hair, but Henry feels no need to tell him that. "I'm used to it. Leather's a rather finicky substance. Gets stiff when you get it too sweaty. Or bloody. Or salty."

"…Doesn't that pretty much describe what a pirate's clothes would be like all the time?" Henry asks after a moment.

Killian is suspiciously silent.

"I mean, as a pirate, wouldn't you want to _avoid_ wearing leather then, instead of wearing it _all the time?_ " Henry says, and he's trying to control his grin, but it's getting harder as each second ticks by and Killian hunches more defensively over his leather pants. "Just how much time did you have to spend cleaning your clothes?"

"No time at all," Killian snaps, tossing the wet rag back into its bowl and grabbing his dry one. He's glaring at Henry now, but his hand is still moving automatically in slow, smooth strokes across the pants, like it's automatic, and Henry is trying _so_ hard not to laugh right now. "I had _cabin boys_ to do it _for_ me."

The pointed look he shoots Henry's way then has him gulping a little, but he rallies quickly with the recollection that Killian is kneeling half-naked in the middle of the living room and can't exactly chase him if he decides to run.

"And how often did _they_ have to clean your fancy leather clothes, Captain?" Henry asks with a smug grin.

Killian drops his final rag and just stares at him for a minute. Then he snatches up the pair of pants and flips them over with a single sharp motion, before grabbing for his first, soapy cloth.

"You're too much like your mother sometimes," he grumbles, cheeks pink, and starts wiping down the butt.

Henry laughs until he cries.

\------

(Just when he thinks he's done, Killian pulls a little bottle out of his coat pocket and wets yet another rag, and starts wiping down the pants all _over_ again.

"What's that for?" Henry asks, a little hoarse.

"Well, you have to _condition_ them," Killian says, sounding more offended than Henry's even heard him without mention of bologna, and that's more than enough to start cracking up again.)


	10. First

**Character:** Emma Swan

No prompt, I just found this snippet in an old document and decided to post it.

* * *

When Emma is three years old, her parents send her back.

It’s her first memory, and for a long time her worst: there was screaming. Loud, horrible, throat-ripping screams, wet sobbing yells, snot and tears and drool staining her pillow for the first entire week as she cried herself to sleep, messily, scared, and all alone. She was so young that the whole event is a little blurry, sepia-tinged in her mind and likely to slip away from her if she tries to touch it – but certain things remain in painfully sharp focus no matter how many years pass.

Mommy’s hand gently stroking her rounded belly. The sharp curve of Daddy’s lips, up up up. The sunlight coming in through the window, bright and warm, the ladybug that landed on the glass.

The social worker’s voice, heavy and sad: “Are you sure you want to do this?”

The  _pause_ , the tiniest, most heartbreaking little silence in the world – and then, “Yes.”

The scritch of pen on paper, the door shutting so gently behind them. Emma didn’t understand then, not then, and so she let them go. She thinks they might have said goodbye in some way; hugged her, kissed her, whispered into her heart that she wasn’t enough and never would be – but she can’t remember that part. All she remembers is that it took her nearly a day to start screaming (and sometimes she wonders, if she’d started sooner maybe she would have changed their minds).


	11. First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off spoiler photos for 'The Apprentice' before it aired.

**Relationships:** Snowing, Charming family

**Prompt:** Snowing, "That's your daughter."

* * *

 

"She’s so beautiful," Snow whispers - and they’re already out the door, but she’s staring down at the camera in her hands and her heart is clenching. The simple pink dress and ponytail isn’t Emma’s usual style at all - she looks younger, more innocent, makes Snow think of every ballgown missed, of every time she didn’t get to tease her daughter about boys, to tell her about the beauty of True Love, everything she’s wanted and never had.

"Hey," David says, lifting her chin with his thumb to smile down at her, and - oh, his eyes are wet, he feels it too, with every bit of their shared heart, this simultaneous love and loss - "That’s your daughter, of course she’s beautiful."

“ _Our_  daughter,” Snow whispers back, and he breaks into a grin, kisses her and tugs her close and doesn’t say the words echoing in both their minds:  _all grown up_.

(It’s silly, they both know it, but - they wait up for her anyway.)


	12. Chapped

**Relationships:** Abigail/Frederick... only cursed, so Kathryn/Jim

 **Notes:** Set immediately after the hospital conversation Kathryn has with David in 1.19.

* * *

Their first real meeting in Storybrooke is when he visits her in the hospital right after David leaves. Kathryn’s smile has dropped, and she’s biting her lip because even though she isn’t angry at him anymore, it still hurts to say goodbye. She may not be  _it_  for him - he might not be  _it_  for her - but Kathryn had thought they were, once. Her mother and father are long dead, she has no other relatives, few friends; even if they were never truly in love with each other, for a long time Kathryn has loved David. Saying goodbye to him now feels like losing her only family.

She doesn’t cry. She’s going to be fine.

But it still hurts.

There’s a knock on the door, and Kathryn lifts her head to blink at a man she doesn’t know peering into her room. She gestures him in with a tentative smile, and he beams back.

"Hi," he sighs happily, then hesitates before taking the chair by her bed. "I - is this a good time? I uh, I passed your husband in the hall…"

"No, it’s fine," she says, and smiles. "He’s not my husband anymore. But it’s fine."

The man (his face is vaguely familiar) raises his eyebrows, but seems to think better of asking. Instead he says, “Sorry, I know you don’t know me, but… I’m the one who found your car at the town line, and I was in the search team and - just, I needed to see for myself that you were safe.”

Kathryn can feel the smile on her lips shifting into something much softer. “Oh,” she says, feeling truly touched. “Thank you. As you can see, I’m just fine.”

He looks her over and frowns, pretty obviously biting back a comment. Kathryn knows she looks weak, tired and sad - and she _is_ , but she’s also determined. She finally feels true closure, she feels ready to take the next step as soon as she’s cleared to go. So it hurts, but it will be fine. Soon enough she’ll be perfectly fine.

“You look better than fine,” the man says, and then half a second later blushes bright red. “I mean, not like… just, you seem strong after all you’ve… I’m sorry, that was – I can just-”

He’s getting up to leave, hands gesturing awkwardly around him, when Kathryn bursts out laughing. And something about that feeling, the completely unexpected giggle tumbling from her lips – it feels _good_. It feels real, and present, and much better than fine, and she can’t remember the last time she laughed. It’s all a haze of drugs and fear or sorrow or worry or longing, and she suddenly wants to ask him not to go. Not to leave her.

“Wait,” Kathryn says, but it’s not necessary because he’s already stopped in his tracks. He’s looking at her mouth – at her smile, and he’s got a little smile curling up the corners of his lips too. Something about that has her biting her lip, trying to resist the impulse to smile wider herself, like they’re two mirrors reflecting endlessly back and forth. She breathes out quickly with her chapped bottom lip stinging against her teeth, then asks, “What’s your name?”

“Oh,” he says. “Sorry, I’m Jim, uh, nice to meet you.” He steps back towards the bed quickly and extends a hand. “I teach gym at the school, and I own a fitness shop.”

His palm is warm against hers and sends a little frisson through her skin. Kathryn feels warmth flush through her, wonders if it’s another side effect of the drugs she’s still detoxing from.

“Nice to meet you, Jim the gym teacher,” she says, and can’t help quirking her lips up as she shakes his hand firmly before letting go. “I’m Kathryn… but you probably know that.”

She doesn’t mention her last name. She’s been thinking about changing it back. Independence is something she craves, right now.

“Yeah,” Jim laughs. “After all that yelling it into the woods, I don’t think I could forget.”

“Right,” she says, smiling again to match his, and for a moment they just smile in silence at one another. It should be awkward, but it isn’t at first – not until there’s a noise in the hallway and Jim clears his throat, starts to say his goodbyes.

Kathryn nods politely and rests her head back on her pillows, and almost lets him leave. But the thought has her biting her lip again anxiously, the prospect of sitting here alone, entirely alone with nothing to do but come down off her drugs and _think –_ it’s not a pleasant one. She wants to focus on the positives, on what she’s going to do when she gets out of here, if law school is still possible at this point or what she’ll have to do to make it possible if it isn’t. But she can’t help the sinking feeling that as soon as Jim is gone and she’s left alone, her thoughts will drift back to all the places she doesn’t want to linger on. That basement will feature prominently, and David, and Regina, and her big empty house and everything she’d wanted to leave behind…

“You can come back,” she tells Jim, feeling a little silly but also a little desperate. “If you want to. We could talk some more.”

He’s halfway out the door, but he stops at her words, and… the smile on his face is as bright as gold.

“I’d love that,” he says with genuine, almost _intense_ , feeling.

Kathryn’s breath catches. Just a little.

 


	13. Marks

**Relationship:** Will/Anastasia (originally from OUATIW)

 **Prompt:** Neck kiss.

* * *

 

After Wonderland, Will likes to leave marks.

He never did before - when they were young and rebellious in Sherwood, he held her as delicately as glass, kissed her sweet and gentle and full of love - and hungry sometimes, lustful, but never  _rough_. She was precious, queen of his heart, and he wanted to give her everything.

After she broke his heart and he took it out of his chest - then, he would have been rough. He would have kissed her hard and fast, used  _teeth_ , would have been so bloody angry and afraid she’d leave again, he’d probably have wanted to leave some sign that at least she’d loved him  _once_ , at least she’d kissed him once before. He would have… if they’d ever kissed, but it hadn’t ever happened. Without his heart Will was still hurting but he could numb it more, could dull that knife’s-edge of his anger and love down to something manageable, at least, something that could be hidden away deep in his empty chest.

After, though. After he gets his heart back, after Ana dies and comes back,  _after_  - he likes to leave marks, now. Nothing quite so vicious as he would have once, but Ana’s been a bloody evil queen for years, she can handle (she  _likes_ ) a bit of bite. They’re both older and… if maybe not much wiser, at least less naive. It’s reflected in everything between them, no matter how happy they are now, and Will - likes to kiss Ana’s neck.

He likes to mouth down her throat, to nip at her jugular vein and press his tongue into the hollow by her collarbone. Ana will grip at him and let her head fall back and gasp and gasp and moan his name and he won’t close his eyes even once. He’ll kiss her rougher than he once did and he’ll look at her white skin blooming red under his touch, feel her pulse against his mouth, hear her every desperate breath - he’ll kiss her on her neck and mutter, “I love you, Anastasia.”

She always whispers, “I love you too, Will Scarlet,” and if her throat ends up looking red and raw every time they make love now, well, she uses magic to heal her bruises anyway.

Things won’t ever be the same as they once were. This love is fiercer, far less innocent - and stronger for it.


	14. True

**Relationship:** Snowing

 **Prompt:** Forceful kiss.

 **Notes:** Theoretical version of how the Shattered Sight curse could twist the strength of Snowing's love into something much darker.

* * *

 

"I love you," she whispers, like the darkest curse imaginable. Her hands tighten around his, nails digging in, and he looks down at her (shards in his eyes, stinging-) and feels such  _disgust_.

"I love you more than anything else - more than  _anyone_ else,” Snow spits out, glaring up at him, and David’s heart is beating double-time. No, he thinks then, it’s not  _his_  heart, it’s  _hers_ , just like he is  _hers_ , like he has been since almost the moment they met, and resentment is crackling through every part of him.

"I’d pick you over anyone," Snow snarls, and her eyes are shining bright and desperate and hateful, and David thinks darkly  _me too_ , and she says - with a little choke, like there’s glass in her throat - says: “even our own  _children_ , I’d still pick you.”

Across the room, there’s a horrible little bitten-off noise.  _Emma_ , David thinks, and he’s so  _angry_  - he wants to hate Snow, wants to not understand how she could ever think or say such a thing, but he can’t, he can’t, he can’t ever do anything but to make her happy, he exists  _only for her -  
_

He tugs her hard against the bars between them, and slams his mouth against hers in the same motion. There’s no finesse to this kiss, no romance - his lips are mashed against her lips, metal bars pressing hard into his cheeks, and his eyes are closed and his heart feels like it’s  _ripping_ , and he  _wants more -_

David yanks back, glaring and panting hard. He looks down at his wife, her cheeks red, pale green eyes as cold as stone, and feels nothing but  _love, love, love,_ bites out: ”I’d hate you if I could.”

Snow’s grip on his hands tightens, fingernails drawing blood.


	15. Headcanons I

**Prompt:** Headcanons

 **Notes:** To explain the prompt... A little while ago I played an inbox game on my tumblr where people sent me any pairing of characters and I responded with a ficlet version of a headcanon I have about them. So far I'm posting three chapters, each with two headcanons, but in the future there may be more if I pick up the game again. It's a pretty fun exercise.

 **Relationships** : Charming family

* * *

**Daddy Charming:**

David and Emma share a lot of common interests. They enjoy a lot of the same food, they react in the same way to a lot of things, they even tend to like similar books and movies. One thing they don't have in common is animals. David loves them - and they love him back, even animals that are usually shy around people tend to be friendly with him quickly. Meanwhile Emma doesn't actively dislike animals, but she doesn't especially care for them either, and she's never had a pet.

Truth is, when she was a child she could never get a pet because of all the moving around from foster home to foster home, and even once she settled down a bit when she was older she didn't feel comfortable with animals. She never felt like she could properly care for one with the kind of job she had and how little time she spent at home (and she didn't want to put down roots), and frankly she's just not sure how to interact with them.

David still volunteers at the animal shelter sometimes, and one day he asks Emma to join him when they're short-staffed. At first she just follows him around and puts food in the bowls he tells her to, but then he starts talking to them. Casually, like they're people, affectionate scoldings and "yeah, yeah, I missed you too"s and then he's making introductions, "yes this is the daughter so make a good impression would you", and the biggest toughest looking dog is a coward trembling behind David's leg and he picks up a cat and holds it out to Emma, tells it "shake" and it sticks out a paw for her to shake and suddenly Emma is laughing, shaking the cat's paw and kneeling to hold out a hand for the dog to sniff until it slowly starts wagging again.

David tells her stories about his sheparding days - about the sheep, mostly, how they all had their own personalities but the overall characteristic was definitely laziness, and he keeps introducing Emma to the animals, making them shake paws or sniff her hand or sometimes just plopping them into her arms to cuddle, and Emma's still not exactly sure what she should be doing here but she's enjoying herself. When they finish up and David tells her she's been a big help, she doesn't even really hesitate before offering to come along next time too, if he needs her.

She likes spending the time with him, and hearing his stories, and the way he chats with the animals like they're people. It's all so easy and relaxed; David puts an arm around her as they leave and Emma leans into him, feels again the overwhelming sense that this is her  _Dad_  and he loves her. Pets always felt like a  _family_  thing to her, somehow, and maybe that's why she never really warmed up to them before, but now…

She's thinking of getting David a dog for his birthday. The big scary shy one (she likes him best).

* * *

**Mama Snow:**

Emma is a coffee drinker, when she doesn't go for hot chocolate. She's never really been the type to need a cup to function in the morning or anything, she's not an  _intense_  coffee drinker, but it's her preference. She's never been a tea drinker, only ever had it to be polite sometimes when it was offered.

But Mary-Margaret is. She likes tea - more than that, she  _knows_  tea. She has a cabinet in the kitchen with one shelf dedicated entirely to tea, she makes different kinds for different things, headaches, periods, rainy mornings, stomachaches, sadness - and after a little while of living together she starts making cups for Emma. She doesn't make a big deal out of it, just leaves them on the counter and often Emma will grab one if she's in a hurry, say a quick thanks on her way out the door. She doesn't really love tea still, but it's hot and caffeinated and there already so she'll take it gladly.

After the curse breaks, this routine is disturbed for a while. But one morning, when Emma is getting ready to head out the door, there's a mug waiting on the counter for her. No explanation, no note, just the tea, and she hesitates before she picks it up. There's a lump in her throat, one that only gets worse when she takes a sip, because… it's hot and some kind of slightly citrusy flavor and she can taste just a hint of honey mixed in and it's  _good_ , she  _missed_  this, it feels like Mary-Margaret is here again. She knows Mary-Margaret never left, not really, but this - she  _feels_  it.

Snow smiles at her from across the room: a little hesitant, a little hopeful. Emma smiles back, feeling the same way.

The tea is a regular fixture after that.


	16. Headcanons II

**Prompt:** Headcanons

 **Relationships:** Charming-Jones family

* * *

**Captain Charming:**

Sometimes, David lies in bed late at night thinking about Killian. No, not like  _that_  - he thinks about Killian and Liam, Killian and Milah. He thinks about what David and James might have been like, if they hadn't been separated at birth, if they'd known each other existed before it was too late. He doesn't really know if that would have changed anything, since his brother was apparently not a good guy, but he can't help but wonder how much of that was circumstances, how much of that would have been set aside for family, can't help but wonder what that death would have been like if it had truly been a brother and not just a stranger he'd never heard of before.

He thinks about Milah, and he thinks about Snow. For David, there is no one else - he can't imagine ever moving on if Snow were to die, but he knows that Killian thought the same thing for hundreds of years, and a proud-father part of him is completely unsurprised that Emma would be the only person capable of changing that. Mostly, David looks at Snow sleeping next to him, and thinks about if she was gone, truly gone with nothing he could do to save her or bring her back - and he can't think about it for long, it sets him to shivering, gently wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her shoulder and closing his eyes as tight as he can, because he  _knows_. It doesn't even feel like a fear, but a horrid certainty - if he'd lost her, if he'd not had anything else, he would have done the same thing as Killian. And he doesn't know that he could have stopped.

He will never make excuses for the wrongs Killian has committed, but David respects him more than he can say for ever being able to come back from something like that.

(Sometimes Killian lies awake at night thinking about David, too. He thinks about Liam, about the angry comparison he made in Neverland and about how it's so true in so many better ways too. He thinks about how David trusts him now, about how that trust means more than anyone else except Emma's.

He thinks -  _hopes_  - wants to and sometimes almost can believe - that Liam would be proud.)

* * *

**Captain Snow:**

Her son is colicky. According to Dr. Whale, that is a medical term meaning "he's going to cry a lot and we don't really know why" and it's been slowly driving Snow mad for weeks now. She loves her baby,  _loves him_  and she wants to fix this for him. She wants to protect him from everything that would ever hurt him, doesn't want to repeat any of the mistakes she's made before but this is something she can't make any better no matter how hard she tries.

She gives him tummy rubs, dims the lights, gives him warm baths, spends hours pacing with him, rocking him back and forth and whispering to him and growing angrier and  _angrier_  - at herself, even though she knows this is a common phenomena and she's not responsible, knows even that she is not alone in this and David is doing everything he can too but that doesn't change that  _she_  should be able to  _do something -_ but worst of all, she's angry at tiny little Neal, for not letting her fix this, for not accepting her comfort, for not giving her any  _peace_.

It's all illogical and she knows it but she can't stop it, it's just an awful cycle and she doesn't know what to do to stop it. She feels helpless with her baby again and she  _hates_  that more than anything. So one night, when she is in the kitchen at two in the morning trying to shush baby Neal and Killian walks in, offers to give it a try, if she's willing - she lets him. She's beyond fed up by all of this, and she doesn't really expect any miracles but Snow is  _tired_  and she just needs a break for two minutes, so she hands her son over and goes to the bathroom to wash her face and just breathe for a minute.

When she comes back, Killian is holding the baby in his arms very carefully. He is rocking slowly on his heels, a gentle back and forth, and his head is bent down, a soft smile on his face, and he's  _singing_.

The baby isn't crying at all.

Compared to Emma, David, and Henry, Snow knows she is the least close to Killian. But ever after that night, he will sit down with her whenever she asks, and sing quiet sea shanties with her until she's learned all the words, until she can sing them softly down to the baby in her arms and he will stop crying, stop moving, just watch her and listen and slowly his eyes will fall shut - not as quickly as for Killian, but they do.

Somehow  _that_ , more than anything else, is what finalizes the feeling Snow's had ever since she saw Emma so nervous in that pink dress for her date: this man is family now. He's not the man she would have expected or even wanted before it happened, but that doesn't matter. He makes Emma happy. More than just that, he  _belongs_ with the rest of them.

Snow soothes her little prince with pirate songs, and smiles.


	17. Headcanons III

**Prompt:** Headcanons

**Relationships:**  Swan Believer + Captain Cobra

* * *

**Swan Believer**

Their time in New York has changed a lot of things for Emma and Henry. In a lot of ways, it hurts them both to think about how the only way they could have that sort of happy, normal familial relationship was due to a curse rewriting their entire lives - but the truth is, their false history was better in a lot of ways. It wasn't  _real_ , and they prefer the way things are now, with their huge crazy loving family, but especially in the first few weeks after everything with Ingrid and Gold seemed to have calmed down, they find themselves missing New York.

Going back to school in Storybrooke is probably the hardest part for Henry. Mary Margaret isn't teaching anymore, and the kids in his class are actually the same ones he remembers from a year ago, because they're finally growing up with him again - that's new. So are the Lost Boys in some of his classes; new, and definitely a little awkward. But mostly, going back to that school just fills Henry with the worst sort of deja vu, the kind he's spent most of his life living. He knows everyone, from first grade to the other middle schoolers - remembers being the same age as them, remembers being the only kid to leave all his friends behind year after year, remembers getting more and more confused and frightened every time it happened, withdrawing more and more until finally he just didn't even  _try_  anymore, not when he knew they wouldn't grow up. Not when the curse was still unbroken.

Things should be different now, and in a lot of ways they  _are_  - but that part hasn't changed. Henry still feels different, still feels separate from all the kids in his school and doesn't really know how to interact with them anymore. It's not for the same reasons, but it's still  _there,_ like an invisible wall. He always thought that breaking the curse would have solved all his problems but just like everything else this is another area he's been proved wrong. All these kids are awake now - they remember their lives in the Enchanted Forest, and they remember that Henry's family has been the cause of them getting tugged back and forth, between realms and curses and having their entire lives uprooted again and again. And that - no one  _bullies_  Henry, they probably wouldn't even dare with his family, but they don't exactly try to include him either. He can't blame them, and sometimes school and friends are the last things he wants to even think about, they seem so  _small_  compared to whatever other crisis is going on… but sometimes, those small things are what matter the most of all.

Sometimes, Henry remembers New York, remembers how it felt to be  _normal_  and to have friends,  _real_  friends, who liked him for who he was and - who he  _thought_  he was, he corrects himself every time, and feels like a liar with every new email he sends that doesn't say a thing about fairy tales or magic or what his life is really like. Sometimes Henry feels crushingly lonely again, like he's still ten years old and nothing has changed, there's no point in even trying.

And somehow, Emma always knows.

Whenever Henry gets into one of those moods, Emma just  _knows_. Maybe because she feels the same way - more than anyone else in this town ever could, the way only someone who lived through that fake happy year could have - maybe just because that year felt like twelve, felt like a  _lifetime_  and even if Henry had so many more friends in that fake life, his mom was always his best one. Maybe it's just a Swan thing.

But Emma notices, every single time, even if no one else does. And she doesn't usually make a big deal out of it - doesn't try to give any rousing speeches or tell him what to do to make this better. Instead, she does small things: drags him on shopping trips, makes his favorite for dinner, challenges him to a video game. Little things, but always New York things,  _Swan_  things that they did together there, routines or traditions or even just inside jokes that were special to only the two of them. The kinds of small things that mattered the most.

No one else in this town knows this stuff. And - maybe it doesn't actually  _change_  anything, yeah. But whenever Emma dusts off those little Swan secrets, ruffles his hair and shoots him that knowing grin… it makes things easier. Makes Henry remember that he's not alone, he's not ever going to be alone again; makes him smile back, and not want to give up.

* * *

**Captain Cobra:**

Killian and Henry teach each other things.

If they had to trace it back, it probably started with that fishing trip - Henry had never been fishing before, so the whole thing was new to him. And then there was the dice in the diner, and - well, the precedent was set. Whenever they are alone together for any extended period of time, it ends up happening again. Killian shows Henry knots, teaches him how to decipher codes and to draw maps and read the stars. He disabuses him of whatever notions he has about "pirate lingo", even though he's mostly certain that was just the lad being cheeky; teaches him more card games and some tricks to win them regardless of what cards he actually has; never broaches the subject of swordplay (that's Dave's territory) but does spend a good hour going over dart-throwing; and once the  _Jolly Roger_ is back, Killian has countless more lessons worth sharing.

Henry contributes too. He teaches Killian things from his own pool of knowledge - like what a GPS is, how to download games onto his phone, or get the DVD player working. Henry teaches Killian how Emma prefers her coffee (but she likes hot chocolate better, made like  _this_ ), gives him an overview of some of this world's history. He's the one who introduces Killian to Disney, starting with the relatively harmless  _Little Mermaid,_ grinning madly and watching Killian's reactions more than the movie. Henry teaches him about comic books and tells him stories from the fairytale book, sets him loose on the internet and explains how baseball works and why it's his favorite sport.

Killian's lessons tend to be more physical, more things that one can  _do_  - that he has done, things he's learned and loved and lived by now for hundreds of years. He doesn't try to teach Henry about honor or codes, nothing about how to think; that isn't his place and the lad has it more than covered, already. Killian tries not to think too deeply about what he's doing, when he places Liam's sextant in the boy's hand and tells him to navigate the way home, watches him glancing down at the crossed-out  _P_  and  _S_  carved into the wood in front of him as he steers the  _Jolly_  home. Killian doesn't want to examine these lessons too closely, tries to let them simply be what they are, to let them continue as naturally as they started.

But it's that very simplicity that tugs at him so deeply. The things Killian is showing Henry - each lesson is a little piece of himself, it feels, and it's amazing how easily they slip out, how natural it feels to tell the lad, "my brother taught me this when I was your age" or "your father took twice as long to learn that knot". It  _rends_  at him a little, with each new lesson Henry gives him, for as much as his teachings are like opening his past up, Henry's lessons are about the future. The things Henry teaches are usually more idea than act - they are stories, as often as not. They are truths Killian needs to know; each new explanation another step into understanding the world that is now his home, and he loves the boy for sharing them. Even if Henry doesn't do it deliberately - perhaps all the more if the lad hasn't thought at all about what he's doing.

Killian teaches Henry what he knows of the ocean, the stars, of being a sailor and a pirate and perhaps even something about being a man. And Henry - he teaches something much more valuable than any of that, because what he teaches is how to belong (and, in the teaching, communicates something even greater - that he  _wants_  him to).


	18. In the Absence of a Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sheer nonsense based on the [ouat cast's responses](http://vickyvicarious.tumblr.com/post/136162975506) to the question of what people would do on a perfect day in Storybrooke.

It was a beautiful summer day in Storybrooke. The sun was high in the bright blue sky, the grass was green, a gentle sea breeze was cooling the air just the right amount, and setup for the First Annual Storybrooke Peace Picnic was underway.

Also, David was panicking.

“This is insane,” he said, pacing back and forth along the bathroom tile. He jiggled his infant son absently in his arms, keeping the baby cheerful even as he spun to face the bathtub and exclaim, “Snow, this is _not a good idea!”_

Snow sighed, long and slow. She sank a little deeper into her bubblebath, eyes closed. She smiled.

“Normally I’m all for making the best of the moments we get between crises, but calling it the ‘Peace Picnic’?” David emphasized his frantic words with a gentle toss, and his son burst into pealing giggles. “Come on, that’s practically an engraved invitation for the next villain! _Mary Margaret!”_

 _“_ Shhhh, honey,” Snow said, not opening her eyes. “It’s going to be fine.”

“It is going to be a _disast-”_

 _“_ I _said_  ‘shhh’,” Snow repeated, voice cutting. She still didn’t open her eyes. Or stop smiling. “Now. You promised me a long, peaceful bath.”

“…I’m wearing my gun,” he insisted, brow furrowed stubbornly as he tickled his son’s belly. He turned towards the door.

“Oh,” Snow gasped quietly. “David, could you…?”

Sighing fondly, he stepped back to open the window above the tub. Birdsong drifted in, soon followed by several songbirds. They perched on various surfaces about the room, looking to Snow for direction.

“Thanks, Charming,” she hummed, flexing her toes in the bubbles.

“I love you too,” he grumped, and stomped out of the room, the baby in his arms still laughing uncontrollably.

* * *

Despite David’s dire predictions, the First Annual Storybrooke Peace Picnic was going off very well.

( _Alarmingly_ well, he still insisted, though by this point it was with a smile tugging at his lips.)

Granny was catering, but she wasn’t the only one. There were several grills set up in the park, manned by Merry Men; Cinderella had a baked goods table; Hansel and Gretel were running a lemonade stand with their father. Despite the free-flowing beer, Ruby, Whale, and several dwarves had nonetheless been spotted conspiring by some trees with some tall bottles in brown paper bags.

There were games: tug-of-war, horseshoes, tag, and shortly after noon Jefferson arrived out of nowhere with a truly gigantic pinata, much to the delight of every child present (and a few glares from parents who would have to deal with the inevitable sugar crashes to follow). There were pony - _steed_  rides being offered, and a pie-eating contest scheduled for later, the nuns were offering childcare services for any adults who wanted to get away for a bit, and Archie was hosting a bingo tournament. Off to one side of the lawn someone had hooked up some speakers and there was an impromptu balldance going - which Snow made a beeline to, and did not leave for a very long time.

Killian and Emma danced for a while as well, but they didn’t quite have the stamina of her parents; eventually, they retired under a tree with some cheeseburgers and lemonade to take a break. It was just such a _nice_  day, and Emma felt perfectly content to lean up against the bark behind her and smile at the sight of Henry and Violet tackling the three-legged race together. Killian’s head was resting on her lap as he lay in the soft grass, reading a book; she ran gentle fingers through his hair and _relaxed,_ truly, for the first time in too long.

At least, until Killian finished his chapter without her noticing, and reached up to twist his fingers through hers.

“Swan,” he said softly.

“Killian,” she grinned back, and leaned down…

“I GOT  _BINGO_ ,” shouted Grumpy, followed by a cacophony of applause and booing. Mere seconds later, the music was swapped from classical to a catchy modern melody, blaring out across the park as the dancing styles abruptly became far less formal to match.

Killian sat up a bit more, gently bumping his forehead into Emma’s. “Care for a walk, love?”

She grinned at him, leaning down for a soft smooch. Then she sat up, using their linked hands to tug him to his feet.

“Yeah,” she said, a twinkle in her eyes, “let’s blow this pop stand.”

“ _Emma._ ”

“ _Killian_ ,” she retorted, as they began to stroll off into the woods. “If you really mind it, maybe you should actually do some research. Put away the book and watch a movie, grandpa.”

“Fine,” he said, squaring his jaw, and bumping his shoulder against hers. “Let’s do it. Let’s watch a movie.”

“Oh yeah? Now?”

“Yeah,” he commanded. “That Marty one. Let’s go watch the Marty one right now.”

Emma laughed, and turned to face him. She pulled him down into a long, slow kiss.

“ _As you wish_ ,” she whispered, and poofed them home before he could call her out on quoting something again.

* * *

It was getting dark, and the picnic was finishing up. Most families were headed home, kids still chattering happily and parents smiling down tiredly but fond. Some folks, however, weren’t done partying yet.

“ _Bowling_ , sister!” Grumpy challenged Snow in a loud voice, almost definitely still under the influence of whatever Ruby had shared earlier. Also possibly her victory at the archery contest _and_  her team winning the tug-of-war. “Now _that’s_  a sport fit for a dwarf!”

Behind him, Dopey flexed his arms. Sneezy sneezed. Doc stuttered something about how they wouldn’t lose again, not to _anyone_.

“We’re the kings of the alley,” Happy bragged.

Regina scoffed as she passed by, arm in arm with Robin: “Please. If you’re the royalty of _anything_ , it’s sweaty overalls.”

This was a tactical error on her part.

“How _dare_  you,” Grumpy demanded. “That’s it - we challenge you too! That means you as well, burger-burner.”

“I - my burgers were fine! No, fantastic!” Robin exclaimed. Grumpy snorted. 

“We’re going to end up bowling,” Snow informed Regina quietly.

“Oh, joy,” Regina said, and rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue.

David followed at the back of the group as they made their way down Main Street, hand on his holster.

“I’m just being cautious!” he hissed when Snow gave him a _look_. “Now would be the perfect chance for a sneak-attack!”

* * *

“-and you’re _sure_  you couldn’t have used magic to just - nudge the ball a little?” Robin asked Regina as they strode into Granny’s some time later.

“That would be cheating,” she laughed. “I thought you were above such things?”

“They wouldn’t have to _know_ ,” he mumbled, and she snickered, tugging him after her to the circle table in the corner of the room where Emma and Killian were already sitting with several plates of leftover picnic lasagna.

They were also supplied with an alarming amount of booze, many bottles of which were already empty.

Also Belle was there. And lots of maps.

“Leroy!” Belle gasped, when she saw him. “Come here! Do you want to go sailing with us?”

She was starry-eyed, bright-cheeked, and swaying in her seat. “We were talking about the _Bahamas_ ,” she explained, jabbing eagerly at a spot on one of her maps. “Or - maybe south Mexico?”

“I _knew it_ ,” David hissed at Snow. “Insanity!”

“We weren’t talking Bahamas,” Emma sighed, reasonably. “Just, yanno, a starlit sail, I mean we’re right by the water, like all the time. And we _have_ a boat.”

“A _ship_ ,” Killian huffed, indignant around another bit of lasagna. Emma patted him on the shoulders placatingly. “And a far cooler vessel than any Delorean.”

…On second thought, perhaps they weren’t being so reasonable either.

“But the water’s  _cold_  here, I want to go somewhere _warm_ ,” Belle insisted. “With _beaches_.”

“I hear ya, sister,” Grumpy nodded.

“Ooh, that does sound nice,” Snow admitted.

“I do like tanning on a warm beach,” Regina agreed.

“Really? I’ve never been,” Robin said.

“Oh, you’re missing out, mate,” Killian put in, and then jumped at the map of the coastline Belle shoved into his face. “Oi!”

“ _Snow_ ,” David said.

“Look, it’s really very doable,” Belle insisted. “The _Jolly’s_ fast, right?”

“The fastest!” Killian bristled. Emma started giggling.

“Oh, come on, they’re just having fun,” Snow told her husband. “They’re not seri-”

“I do have a great bikini I’ve been wanting to bust out,” Emma mused.

Abruptly, Killian accepted Belle’s maps. “Yeah, this is doable,” he agreed.

“Well then let’s _go_ ,” the librarian demanded, slamming her tankard down on the table.

“Why not, this place isn’t that interesting anyway,” Emma agreed, and with a wave of her hand suddenly everyone was standing on the deck of the _Jolly Roger_. A second wave made a very flustered-looking Henry and Violet appear, holding hands. They let go immediately.

“M-Mom, what’s going on?” he asked, flushing red.

“Mexico, apparently,” Regina drawled. She seemed laconically amused, not inclined at all to stop whatever was happening. Then again, both she and Robin had partaken of their fair share of drinks with the dwarves during bowling.

“Or maybe the Bahamas,” Belle added, then fell over. Emma leaned down to help her up, but just ended up sitting next to her on the deck and snickering.

“Seriously? Cool!” Henry said. Violet looked hesitantly excited as well.

Killian had started yelling commands at the dwarves and Robin, which they stumbled to clumsily obey as best as they could guess, since none but Grumpy knew the first thing about ships.

“SNOW,” Charming said.

“Okay, I didn’t predict this!” she admitted. “But - don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll come to their senses! By… tomorrow or next week, or something!”

“ _DAVE_ ,” Killian bellowed from the wheel. “WHERE’S MY FIRST MATE?”

Snow looked at her husband. He looked back at her. She raised an eyebrow. There was a pause.

“…. _Insanity_ ,” he hissed, and ran off to assist the Captain.

“Yes, Henry,” Snow said, turning to her grandson. “It seems like we’re going to Mexico. Now give me your phone to call Nova, and Violet’s parents.”


End file.
